


His Goddess

by Morninglight (orphan_account)



Series: The Healer and the Warlord [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Lactation Kink, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Pregnancy Kink, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Morninglight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Sparrow have a night alone and he shows how much he worships her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Goddess

 

Sparrow was five months along now and the jumpsuits were now too tight for her to wear, meaning that she was back to wearing loose cotton dresses. With Arthur confirmed as High Elder and the other Elders returned to their duties, the Prydwen was a lot quieter these days. It certainly felt emptier with Danse dead and gone.

            She and her husband saw each other far too little these days – him organising five chapters in a shared vision while reinterpreting Brotherhood doctrine and she handling the day to day business of the Prydwen. But tonight, according to his terminal, the entire night was free. The milk was leaking from her breasts and she was growing round as a melon, every brush of the cotton on her skin triggering a surge of arousal. She wanted to watch Arthur’s gas-blue eyes flare hot as his callused hands dragged roughly over her nipples, his mouth nuzzling at the join of neck and shoulder possessively-

            Yep, she was horny. Hopefully he’d be in the mood too.

            To that end, she rummaged in the drawers for the flowy satin nightdress she’d found in Fallon’s Basement last trip to Diamond City, bending over awkwardly so she could reach for it shoved up the very back-

            And felt a very familiar erection nudging her backside.

            “Hello, Arthur,” she said with a husky chuckle. “Is your little soldier standing at attention?”

            “I had to threaten several court martials to get this night alone with you,” he rasped as his big hands found her breasts and softly squeezed. Sparrow moaned appreciatively and ground her ass against his cock to show her enthusiasm.

            He turned her around and ran a gaze over her ripening curves – the full, heavy breasts, the rounded mound of her belly – as she realised he was shirtless. Young and built like a statue of Hercules, all solid rock-hard muscle laced with faded scars – and hers. Totally hers.

            “I still sometimes can’t believe that _this_ -“ His hands splayed out across her belly. “Is real. Is mine.”

            “Arthur,” Sparrow said, stepping up to him. “I’m real. I’m yours.”

            “I know. Just… when you’ve known only war and death, the thought of something that is pure life is… inconceivable.” His rough voice was haunted with old memories. “That you lived where better men died-“

            She stopped him with a kiss. “I miss Danse too,” she said when they broke apart. “But you’re as good a man as he was.”

            “He lived to protect. I’m good at killing.” Arthur’s expression was bleak.

            Sparrow wrapped her fingers around his thick wrists and brought his hands up her breasts. “You’re pretty good at this too, love.”

            Arthur’s scarred face twisted into a wry smirk. Then he tugged at a nipple and swore when a dribble of liquid came out. “What-? Shit, did I do something wrong-“

            “I’ve started lactating,” Sparrow assured him gently. “It’s okay, love.”

            Something feral burned in his eyes before he lowered his mouth to her leaking nipple and licked it. Sparrow shuddered in startled pleasure as he drew out what little milk there was in her breast by licking and suckling, moaning in disappointment when he stopped and looked up at her through half-lidded eyes. “So sweet,” he rasped darkly before turning his attention to her other breast.

            She was wet enough to drown the sea by the time he was finished but Arthur decided to literally wallow in her pregnant belly by rubbing his bearded cheek against the taut flesh, pressing kisses to her navel – and adding the little dip of the tongue she liked to add when sucking his cock – and kneading her hips possessively.

            “Mine.” A trail of wetness seeped down and tracked the gouge of his ragged scar, Sparrow blinking back her own tears.

            “Ours,” she corrected gently and his smile was almost childlike in its joy.

            “Ours,” he agreed before pressing one last kiss to her belly.

…

Head Scribe Rothschild once claimed that the very earliest humans had worshipped pregnant women for their ability to give life. As his mouth latched onto one of Sparrow’s breasts, tasting the thin sweet liquid, Arthur decided that the earliest humans had been in the right to do so.

            Sparrow was the very picture of an ancient fertility idol, her heavy breasts and ripe belly and round hips everything he’d never known he craved until it was his. Arthur worshipped the womb carrying the future of the Maxson bloodline with kisses, massaging her hips and feeling the wetness slide down her thighs. When he muttered that the babe was his, she rightfully reminded him that it was theirs, and he felt the tears slide from his eyes.

            In a better world, a man liked Danse would have been human and lived to be a father. But it wasn’t a better world and Sparrow, at least, believed him to be as good a man as the synth.

            He gently pushed Sparrow back to the bed, remembering what Cade told him about sex and laying down on the mattress so she could ride him. Slick heat engulfed his cock, full heavy breasts filling his hands as she gently rolled her hips, long chestnut hair veiling them like drawn curtains. Her radstag-doe eyes were soft and dark like the clean soil that the Scribes grew plants in back at the Citadel, warm and loving and all the things that he didn’t deserve even as he clung to them possessively.

            The healer had returned with the Elders gone and the war over. Arthur hoped she’d stay for a very, very long time.

            As always, it took fingers on her clit to bring her to climax, their hands entwined as she shuddered around his cock. Arthur spilt his seed with a soft hoarse growl and then gently laid her down so they could cuddle.

            In this moment, he let himself drift off to sleep with his lady and heir tight within his arms, his body to the door in case they were attacked. She was his goddess of peace and fertility and he would never let her go unprotected from him.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Trigger warnings for mentions of death, violence, child soldiers, and grief/mourning. Sparrow/Arthur smut sequel to ‘This War of Ours’, so spoilers for that story. Pregnancy and lactation kinks. Enjoy!


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